At a secret place known to only a few, they were gathering.

Humans from every corner of Anaxas were there - farmers, brickburners, blacksmiths - as well as some from Bastia, Mugroba, Hesse, Gior. Wicks and witches, who had covertly been traveling to Anaxas from all around, were in attendance. There were passives, huddled together in mutual discomfort, and even a few galdori, sitting by themselves and looking around with wide eyes. Every shade of criminal and honest man seemed to have come out of the woodwork.

The crowd was immense, and filled the enormous underground temple to the rafters. Many held blindfolds, a sign that they had been led there; most were tired and wet from the long journey to the How, which was well outside the city. Excitement filled the air as the men and women looked forward to a rousing speech, a real, tangible plan of attack; the resistance had not met together like this in almost a year, because it had not been safe until now.

As the crowd settled, chattering and whispering, those who were paying attention could see a man in a dark cloak and a tall, slender woman talking quietly near the Speaking Mound in the center. Most, however, were more concerned with finding seats.


((Note for galdori: you can't be here unless you're part of the resistance, sorry! Everyone else, PM me if you're not sure if you'd be allowed in.))

Fion loitered around the edges of the crowd, wondering if she was going to see anyone she knew. She vainly hoped that maybe her parents would be in attendance but as far she knew they had yet to come out of hiding, presuming they had gone into hiding in the first place.

She kept her eyes open for Khymarah, she didn't want to leave her alone here. She had caught sight of Jon Serro earlier, at least she thought she had. It would be odd if he wasn't in attendance. She knew he didn't like vroo, so she decided it was her duty to look out for Khymarah while she was at the meeting.

A tall figure in a dark coat emerged from one of the entrances, accompanied by a group of pirates who had persuaded Endo to attend the rally.

They were old friends who felt that he should be a part of the resistance, despite him being shy of confrontation and oddly tolerant of the galdori. They believed that Endo's appearance in itself was reason enough for him to become a freedom fighter. The man was as docile as a kitten and the years were taking their toll on his strength, but he certainly looked the part.

Endo met the eyes of every person in the vicinity, and gave them a friendly smile. However, he seemed a little unsure as he picked his way amongst them, trying to find a place to sit that wouldn't be in anyone's way.

He looked across at the figure by the Speaking Mount and waited, his hands clasped together in his lap.

Annie pulled off the blindfold and looked around for the talking shadow, but it seemed she had melted into the darkness once again. She scanned the room, gawking at the huge crowd. The repoter in her wanted immediately to whip out her notebook and begin taking notes for the next big story, but for one she'd left the notebook at home and for another she remembered what Fion had said about these guys and the press. Annie rather liked her head being where it was, so she crossed her arms and told the nagging reporter voice in her head to very politely shut it.

Annie nervously wrapped the blindfold around her wrist and tied it off. She hated being by herself in places she'd never been, and searching the crowd for familiar faces was only making her more aware that she didn't know anyone. Right now, I don't care who I run into, so long as it's somebody I know...

Khymarah heard the noise before she felt the presence. There were a lot of humans here, and it seemed a lot of wicks judging by the fields she was receiving. She felt a few stronger ones in there as well. It was impossible not to feel slightly intimidated.

She noticed that Cere's field was no longer with her. Hesitantly, she reached up and pulled away the blindfold.

There were a lot of people here. And up on the dais, there was a man and a tall slender woman, waiting patiently to address the throng. Looking around, twisting the bandanna in her hands, Khymarah looked for a familiar face. Fion was here somewhere. Ahead of her was a slightly familiar figure, someone she usually saw in a fedora, but not really sure, Khymarah held her tongue and stood quietly. It was rather uncomfortable being a lone galdor right now.

Annie's eyes narrowed. A very strong field had entered the meeting place. Were they being watched by the galdori? She turned her head, but rather than seeing a stiff golly with an angry face, she saw a familiar one. One that was normally cheerful and smiling, but for now was adorned with a slight frown. Understandable, considerin where she is...I'd be a bit worried m'self if I were the only golly in a room full o' folks what don't take kindly to what I am.

Annie got up, losing her spot to a kid half her age, and went to join her friend.

"Well, ain't you a sight for sore eyes."

Khymarah smiled broadly when she saw the familiar figure was indeed Annie.

"Hello Annie, I wondered if that was you. You look pretty tonight. Sorry your spot." She looked up at the dais again.

"Do you know who these people are?" She asked quietly.

A slight blush creeped across Annie's nose, and she shrugged. "Eh, he can have it. Weren't too comfortable, anyhow." She turned and looked up at the speaking mound. "I'm guessin he's somebody important, talking to somebody else what's important." She shook her head. "What're ye thinkin they'll be tellin us about tonight? Intricate details on plans of rebellion and riotin? Or maybe we'll all be instructed on the importance of the sit in."

Near the Speaking Mound, Jon Serro pulled Alyssa Pierre closer, so that no one around them could overhear.

"Is Ceres here?" he said, in a low voice.

"I made sure of it," replied Alyssa, coolly. "He's keeping an eye on all the vroo. And your girl is in the back, waiting."

"Did she have to be restrained?" he said, no hint of concern in his strong voice.

Alyssa balked at the suggestion. "No," she said, smirking a little. "I'm fantastic at calming people down, remember? Besides, Triar made sure she was on board. She trusts him like an older brother or something. Cute, right?"

Serro ignored her. "Bring her out on my signal," he said, and with that he climbed up onto the Mound and cleared his throat, waving to Ceres.

Ceres, who had been watching this exchange with one eye, frowned and cast a wordless spell down to the Speaking Mound. Those around him felt a watery sort of flicker in the air as the spell shot towards Serro and entered his mouth, disturbing the air only slightly.

When Serro spoke, it was in a booming voice that filled the entire How.

"My brothers and sisters," he said, his stony expression showing fierce pride and a little affection. "Thank you for coming."

Off to the side, Alyssa watched him slyly, playing with a strip of ragged lace on her dress. He looked especially handsome when he was pontificating.

Khymarah nodded and began to open her mouth to speak to Annie when she tasted something slightly damp and a watery sort of flicker. There was a spell being cast, she could feel a familiar field, and the spell swooshed over their heads up to the dais. The darkly dressed man stood in front of them and took a breath.



Khymarah looked up at him, recognizing the vocal enhancement spell as soon as he began to speak. She listened intently, finally, it was starting. The attractive, yet dark looking woman beside him seemed smitten, in a strangely unsmitten way.

Fion stopped quietly moving through the crowd the moment Serro started to speak. She clasped her hands in front of her skirt, eyes fierce and determined. She kept her face soft, like she usually did when she was working.

She listened, watching the speaking mound like a hawk.

(( Crap! Sorry I'm late ))

Ivan had been to the How once before, so he knew his way around quite well. He had arrived fairly early, and found a secluded spot to meditate on the state of things while the hall filled with budding Party members.
Some faces belonged to those he knew, some to those he didn't, and a few to people he recognised but would never have suspected. One thing was certain - it was a great yield. He even spied a few galdori among the predominantly human crowd.

His train of thought was cut short when he felt the ripple pass through the air. This was the first time he had been in close proximity to the casting of a powerful spell since he had given up the opium trade.
Ivan felt his chest tighten and his blood freeze. He steadied himself against the support beam he was next to, and fought to regain his breath. He hated to be seen in this state, and was glad to be relatively hidden from view.
A few moments later he regained his composure, and his breathing slowed. It was then that he heard Jon Serro begin to speak.

Serro continued:

"Tonight we celebrate a victory, my brethren. Not a victory of numbers, but one of morality.

"By now you have shed your tears for Dorhaven, for the massacre of so many innocents. Two hundred dead at the hands of the galdori. Do not believe the lies - this was not the fault of any passive spell, but a deliberate and targeted attack on our people."

There were some murmured nods and agreements to this assertion; Alyssa could be heard to say "Exactly," under her breath.

"I am sure this news does not bring any of you the comfort you so sorely need. But we are soldiers, my friends, and we must be always strong, never weakened. Dorhaven was besieged by tragedy, and we must mourn, but we must not turn up our noses at the opportunity the gods have given us.

"The public eye is on us now, waiting for our response. Shall we shrink back into the shadows? Shall we allow the galdori to murder us in the hundreds?"

The crowd in the How responded with a loud, resounding "NO!"; the thundering filled the cave with an emotional swell of sound.

Annie waited for Khymarah's response, but a voice cut their conversation short.


Annie cocked an eyebrow for only a moment. I never said you were my family, homeskillet...


Annie's eyes narrowed. Not sure how that's a moral victory, bud.


For a moment, Annie's chest swelled with pride. That's partly my doin, proof I'm a good reporter.

Annie winced; the noise was deafening. She looked at the tall, dark figure on the mound, both eyebrows arched in surprise. This guy knows how to spark a crowd, knows how to get 'em riled like me. I like 'im already.

Fion scanned the crowd, eyes hard.

He was going to start a war, then. Without a trace of irony it occured to her that he sounded exactly like Dom Leon did when he was talking of loyalty and riots.

Endo sat forward, frowning, his mind trying to keep pace with Serro's speech. The resounding 'NO!' that broke out around him caught him off guard, and he flinched.

He looked questioningly at the people closest to him, but almost immediately turned back to the speaking mount. He feared he would miss what was said.

Khymarah listened intently as Serro continued.



Suddenly she felt very very out of place. Of course, there were other galdori here and she wanted to take down her race as much as the others here, but now her ruby red hair and sparkling trinkets felt very exposed.



Khymarah winced slightly and moved a little closer to Annie. The voices were deafening. What exactly did this man have in mind? Although she was slightly scared, she was also very interested.

Suddenly, Annie remembered something. A tiny little thought that had been tickling the back of her mind had broken free and expanded until it filled her head. Nata's words came back to her in an instant.

Her eyes widened as realization took hold of her consciousness. My gods, she thought. He's got this crowd believing every word he says, no thought to whether it's true or not. He's going to start a war on a lie.

Ceres appeared again by Khymarah, and he touched her shoulder briefly to alert her to his presence.

"How you holding up?" he murmured. Delicate spellwork carried his words to her ears despite the cacophony around them; he had a very light touch with magic, very subtle. "I know this can get a little hairy. Just hang in there."

He nodded solemnly to Annie, a glimmer of recognition in his face as he noticed how different she looked without the trademark reporter's hat.

---

Up on the Mound, Serro continued. His normally passive face was alive with passion; his beetle-black eyes sparkled in the light of the blazing torches that lit the room.

"But it is not enough to rally around the dead at Dorhaven," he continued, waving his arms to calm the crowd. "We must have a symbol, a living example of galdori cruelty. We must prove to the people of Anaxas once and for all the sickening outrages that have taken place under their rule.

"Seven years ago, my friend Claude Oreau was killed. My predecessor, Marcus Ford-"

There was a loud boo at this name. Clearly, Marcus Ford had not been popular. A few shouted "Traitor!" and "Weakling!"

"...Marcus Ford squandered the sacrifice of Oreau's death at Rookwen. We might have held the city's hearts and minds, but he covered it up as though it were an embarrassment rather than speaking proudly of the brave men and women who fought at Rookwen.

"But now, the gods have smiled upon us once again."

He stepped back to admire the effect these words had. The crowd seemed puzzled, and murmurs spread across the crowd. What did he mean?

"They have delivered to us a symbol," said Serro. "One who represents the undeniable, unforgivable cruelty of the galdori - a living reminder of their hatred and disdain."

Across the Mound, Alyssa Pierre's expression was dark as a thunderstorm.

Annie nodded back. The man seemed to recognise her, but Annie couldn't quite place him herself. Must be 'cause of the newspaper...


Annie took a step back towards Khymarah. "We already have a symbol, don't we?" she mumbled. "You know, our normal every day existance? That's symbol enough for me."


Annie remembered the names, faintly. She wasn't working at the paper at the time, being as to how she was only 17 and barely out from under Nata's wing. She'd only been in Vienda for a week, and it seems the 'battle' had happened only a day before she came. Names were whispered in the streets, and most people turned away from anybody they thought could be sinister somehow. Two weeks later, she was hired by the KP.


Annie raised her eyebrows, turning slightly to murmur to Khymarah, "Boy, I hope they don't expect us to start bowin to no golden cows."

Khymarah felt relieved at his presence. She smiled, eyes still on the dais.

"I'm doing okay. It is a little daunting, but thank you for your words. It means a lot."



The red head nodded, wondering what more Serro needed to prove the galdori cruelty and oppression. She had an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach.



Khymarah frowned. She knew about the Rookwen Massacre. It was something quite a few galdori celebrated quietly as a victory. She just found it disturbing and upsetting, yet again a notch against her thanks to the out and out cruelty of her race.



Coming closer to Annie, the galdor whispered.

"Annie, something feels strange. I feel uneasy right deep in my stomach. I don't know but, just...just keep on your toes." She frowned again, watching the speaker with apprihensive anticipation.

Fion's blood turned to ice. She had no proof, no damn proof at all. All she had to go on were drunkards stories, scared whispers and galdori bragging. She was sure Serro had placed a grasping hand on the Rookwen massacre, something he had done had made it happen.

No proof at all...

The fire behind her eyes died. Galdori making riots in the street, the humans talking of blood and war. Even if she had supreme faith in the cause, she had a son. It wasn't about what she believed, her responsibilities were clearly defined.

She turned slightly to look at the crowd. She saw a tall, though strangely fragile man looking upon the crowd with quiet, dignified confusion. At least she wasn't the only one nearby that wasn't descending into madness. Perhaps it was cowardice talking but she did not feel that this was the right way to win the war. It sounded as though the galdori would be replacing the passives as slaves, not a change of world at all just a reshuffle of the same old deck.

She kept the corner of her eye on the tall man. She wanted to talk to him later.

Annie nodded. "You ain't the only one, Khy. Somethin about all this don't feel right at all. Look at that crowd. One spark'd set 'em off at a frenzy; they'd prolly rip apart the first golly--erm, galdor--they saw." Dawning comprehension once again descended on the reporter. "Oh hells, Khymarah. Me on my toes an' you on your guard. Whatever happens, it shore ain't gonna be pretty."

She turned, looking back at the speaking mound. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Many years ago," Serro continued, his voice dropping to a calm rumble, "my father knew a woman by the name of Petra Gloss."

A few people in the crowd seemed to be nodding, as though in recognition; it seemed like some of the older folk remembered this name. Ceres himself was nodding quietly.

"She was instrumental in the resistance - strong and brave, willing to do whatever it took to bring down the galdori. But when she went undercover as the chamber maid to an important political figure, she was defeated at last."

Jon Serro's face became dark as he spoke. "Petra was raped, and when the politician heard that she had given birth, she was hunted down. I thought for years that her child did not live." The man took a deep breath.

"But she did."

There were further whispers. What did this mean? Where the clock was he going with this?

Serro's hand rose, and he snapped his fingers. Alyssa Pierre smirked at the gesture, and quickly disappeared into the shadows, swaying casually.